


Hard Hearts Are Crashing

by romanticalgirl



Series: Crowded Room [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Steve Rogers is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22320121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: Bucky interferes. Steve makes a realization. Bucky meets the President. Steve raids Tony's alcohol stash. Tennis is discussed. Also there is avenging.Shockingly, they are both still amazingly stupid and inept and clueless.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Crowded Room [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1121862
Comments: 51
Kudos: 210





	Hard Hearts Are Crashing

“Steve, you have got to control your boss.”

“What?” Steve slides down into the chair across from Sam, sliding him his coffee and a muffin. “What do you mean?”

“He has called me every day for two weeks.”

“What?” He frowns. “What? Why?”

“He keeps trying to convince me that we should move your birthday party to the Tower and celebrate with the Avengers.”

“And you’ve told him no? Every day for the past two weeks?”

“You have got to make him stop.”

“I didn’t have any idea. He is the most annoying person I have ever met, I swear.” Steve tears his muffin in half and growls at the raspberries and cream cheese inside. “I’ll make him stop.”

“My cell phone. My _work_ phone. How did he get my work phone? Do you know who else has my work phone? No one. Because it is for work.”

“I have it.”

“You’re my best friend and emergency contact. Of course you have it. Your _boss_ is not any of those things. He’s a pain in my ass. I keep getting looks. Everyone wants to know why the Winter goddamn Soldier is calling me. What am I supposed to say? He wants to crash my friend’s birthday party?”

“I’ll talk to him.” Sam’s phone rings and he picks it up, leveling a look at Steve. Steve groans and takes the phone from Sam. “Why are you calling Sam?”

“Steve! Did Sam tell you that you’re coming to Tony’s party yet? I already ordered a cake.”

Steve looks at Sam, lips pursed and brow furrowed. “No. No, he didn’t tell me that.”

“Two weeks, Steve. Plus he said he'd introduce me to Black Widow.”

“I could introduce you to her.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t, have you? No, you have not.”

“If you got what you want, why are you calling him?”

“I need to know what to get you. I mean, your wish list is kind of boring. How many books do you need? Not that many.”

“I like reading.”

“Anyway. Let me talk to Sam.”

“No! Leave my friends alone. Who the hell do you think you are?” He huffs angrily. “You’re my boss. We have a business relationship. My friends are my friends. They have nothing to do with you. Sam has a life. A job.”

“Right. But we have to plan your party. And we’ve already told all your other friends the new details, so you might as well accept that it’s inevitable.”

“Why is this my life?” Steve puts his head in his hands. “I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this.”

“Think of it as payback. Now, let me talk to Sam.”

“Fine.” Steve hands the phone back to Sam. “You and I are going to have a talk, Wilson.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He takes the phone and starts talking to Bucky, ignoring Steve completely. Steve eats his muffing aggressively, glaring at Sam. Sam talks to Bucky like they’re old friends, so, out of spite, Steve steals Sam’s muffin back and rips it apart, picking out all the chocolate chips.

Sam hangs up, looks at his muffin, then looks at Steve absolutely unimpressed. “You’re a child, Rogers.”

“I can’t believe you let him hijack my birthday party so you can make eyes at Natasha.”

“I’m not gonna be makin’ eyes at her. I’m going to woo her. Sweep her off her feet. Let her know she needs some chocolate in her life.” He grabs his muffin and pulls it in front of him. “Speaking of chocolate, you owe me some.”

“Aren’t you all the chocolate anyone needs?” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks before taking a sip of his coffee. “You know, I just really wanted a low-key party with my friends. Now it’s going to be a big thing, and I’m going to be embarrassed. You know I hate being the center of attention/”

“Just pretend everyone’s celebrating America and they accidentally spelled it wrong on the cake. Peggy ordered your favorite.”

“That’s because Peggy, at least, is a good person.”

“I don’t know. She and Barnes seem to be getting along like a house on fire.”

“ _Peggy_ is talking to Barnes? Are there any of my friends he hasn’t stolen out from beneath my feet?”

Sam tilts his head in thought. “No.”

“I don’t know who’s worse. Him or all of you.”

“Oh, trust me.” Sam holds up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s definitely him.”

**

Bucky plops down on the couch next to Steve hard enough that Steve bounces. He grabs the laptop with both hands and glares at Bucky. “What?”

“You ready for the good news?”

“Depends. Is it actually bad news?”

“Well, I might be stating my case from my own perspective. You probably think it’s bad.”

Steve groans and rests his head on the top of the laptop. “Just tell me. Get it over with so I can do PR about it and move on.”

“Well, there’s this guy named Steve Trevor.”

Steve immediately freezes, breath caught in his chest. “Oh,” he manages. “How long has that been going on?”

“Not sure. Couple of weeks maybe?”

“Oh.” Steve nods and shuts his laptop, setting it carefully on the table in front of him. “Do you… I’m not feeling well. Do you mind if I take the rest of the day off?”

“I’m not done.”

“I think I’ve heard everything I need to. I’ll call Ms. Prince’s people in the morning. Make sure we get our stories aligned.”

“I’m aligned already. I mean, I’m happy. She’s great. I mean it. I like her a lot, but this is better.”

“Right.” Steve presses his lips together and exhales through his nose. Grabbing his computer again, he opens it and clicks on Bucky’s schedule. “When should I put Mr. Trevor in?”

“In?”

“Your schedule.”

“Why would you… Oh! Oh, shit. No, Steve.” Bucky laughs, but it sounds a little strained. “Steve Trevor isn’t for me. I mean, he and Diana started seeing each other.”

“Oh.” Steve exhales slowly. “Well. That’s nice. For her. You’re okay?’

“Yeah. It’s good news, remember? I swear, at some point someone’s going to believe we were just friends.” Bucky’s brow furrows. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? Do you need to lie down? I can get you something to eat or drink?”

“No. It’s okay. I’m… I just think I need to go home. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

“I can take you home.”

“Subway’s fine.” Steve settles his laptop back on the table and stands up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Bucky frowns. “You’re sure? Tony’s got a thousand cars at least. Pretty sure he can spare one to go to Brooklyn.”

“I’m sure.” He grabs his messenger bag. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Promise.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Bucky’s still frowning as Steve leaves. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Can you log into the traffic cams by Steve’s house and let me know when you see him?”

“I’m sure Mr. Rogers would vehemently disapprove of that.”

“Just want to know he gets home safe. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s a little stubborn.”

“It has come to my attention, yes.” FRIDAY doesn’t actually have emotions, but it still seems like she’s laughing. “I’ll report when I see him.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

He’s pretty sure she is laughing. At him. “I’m sure I’ll find some way you can repay me.”

**

Steve gets on the phone and taps his foot impatiently. He doesn’t even get to say anything before Sam starts in on him.

“I am not cancelling, rescheduling, or uninviting Barnes and the rest of the Avengers to your birthday party. Stop asking.”

Steve waits for a moment and then sighs. “I have a problem, Sam.”

“You’ve got a whole host of them. Are we talking about one in particular.?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.” Sam starts laughing, and eventually all Steve can hear is the high whistling of his throat when he’s laughing too hard to actually make noise. “Are you done?”

Sam snorts, and Steve can hear him trying to regain control of himself, but he keeps breaking back into giggles.

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Sam manages to get out. He takes a few deep breaths, giggles a few more times, then clears his throat. “Okay. Yeah. I’m okay now. So you’re in…” He laughs again. “Nope, sorry.”

Steve hangs up. His best friend is an asshole.

He takes the subway home, stopping on his way to get some food. He’s not sure if he’s hungry, since his stomach hasn’t quite untwisted since Bucky had made him think that he was dating someone for real. Even the relief from finding out the guy was dating Diana Prince hadn’t made it better, because Steve had realized, at that moment, that he was in _love_.

With Bucky Barnes. Ugh.

He knew he liked him. Knew he wanted him.

He didn’t expect this. He doesn’t want this.

He’s not an idiot. He knows that Bucky is interested in him. There have been too many close calls to believe otherwise. But Steve’s… Well, he’s Steve. He’s not conventionally attractive, but he knows he’s good looking in his own way. So it’s not that he doesn’t see how Bucky could want him.

He just doesn’t see a future. 

**

Steve looks out the peephole and shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Sam wheedles. “I promise not to laugh anymore.”

“I don’t like you. You’re the worst best friend in the world. I’ve decided I’m going to find another one and forget all about you.”

“Who’s going to put up with your prickly ass? Nobody but me. You know it. I know it. Lemme in.”

Steve groans. “Fine.” He unlocks the door and steps back, swinging It open for Sam. He doesn’t wait for him to come in, just goes back to the couch and hunkers down with his bowl of ice cream with M&Ms on top. He stabs his spoon into it. “Take that, Barnes.”

Sam shuts the door then goes to the kitchen, coming back with a beer. He starts to sit down on the opposite side of the couch, but stops. “That is not your chair.”

“Shut up.”

“Barnes bought you a new chair, didn’t he?”

“No. I bought myself a new chair.”

Sam’s smile is huge. “Because of Barnes. And don’t deny it, because I’ve known you for years and told you multiple times to get rid of that chair.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t remember not to sit there.”

“Barnes comes along, and suddenly your ass is at Ikea.”

“Shut up.” Steve scoops up some ice cream and eats it angrily, crunching the cold M&Ms. Sam sits in the chair, making a show of getting comfortable. Steve just glares.

“Okay, so you finally realized you’re in love with him.”

“What do you mean, finally?”

“Rogers, you’ve had a thing for him since the first time you met. He got under your skin just as much as you got under his and, whether you’ve admitted it to yourself or not, you’ve been thirsting for his ass since then.”

“That is _not_ true. I took the job because I needed a job, since my previous employers were _Nazis_.”

“And because he made you feel something. You’ve been looking for someone who gives as good as he gets for a long time.”

“I don’t like it when they give.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend I’m talking about sex. Also, ew. I don’t need to know that shit about you.”

“You already know it.”

“Because you don’t know how to put a sock on a doorknob.” He takes another drink and levels a look at Steve. “I never once wanted a live show featuring your skinny, pasty, white ass.”

“Lies.” Steve can’t help but smile. “In retrospect, that was pretty hilarious.”

“I don’t know. Don’t think the other dude appreciated it much.”

“He had no sense of humor. It was a good thing to find out early.”

“I worry about you sometimes.” Sam sighed. “Back to the subject at hand. What brought on this epiphany that the rest of us had months ago?”

“I thought he was dating someone else. Like, actually dating, not going out with Diana Prince as a friend. And the guy’s name was Steve. And all I could think about was him saying Steve to someone else. Like…like that.”

“You mean all sexy? Don’t play coy now.”

“Yes. Sexy. During sex. Talking to him on the phone and stuff.” Steve slumps back and sets the ice cream on his stomach, wincing as the cold penetrates his t-shirt. “I felt sick.”

“But this Steve guy…” Sam pauses, prompting Steve.

“He’s dating Ms. Prince. And I was so relieved, but I still wanted to throw up.” He jabs his ice cream and then spoons a huge bite into his mouth. Sam closes his eyes for a moment then shakes his head.

“You are such a cliché right now.” Sighing, he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I want you to listen to me very closely, okay?”

Steve’s lower lip slides out in a pout, but he nods. “Kay.”

“Barnes is in love with you.”

“No he isn’t. He wants me. I mean, I believe that. But he’s not – “

“Man, shut up. You suck at knowing when someone has feelings for you. Or, more aptly, you never think people _can_ have feelings for you. Because you are a dumbass.”

“Hey!”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Yes. On multiple occasions.”

“About shit like this?”

Steve doesn’t actually need to think about it, but he pauses before answering anyway. “No.”

“That’s right.” Sam sighs and slumps back. “So. It’s mutual. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.” Sam inhales deeply then lets his breath out slowly. “I’m not sure you understood the part where I said he felt the same.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Why would he do that?” Sam puts his head in his hands, probably already annoyed at Steve..

“Because everyone gets over me.” Steve shrugs. “He’s the type who likes a challenge.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“You just do.” Sam rolls his eyes and drinks some of his beer. “You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You are scared and you’re the dumbest white boy I’ve ever met, and I have to tell you, that’s really saying something. Because pretty much every white boy I meet is dumb.” He scoots to the edge of the chair and levels a look at Steve. “I know you’ve been hurt, man. But that’s no reason not to try. The dude is in love with you. He looks at you like he wants to kiss you and kill you, and, when it comes to Steve Rogers, that’s love.”

“Wow. That says a lot about me that I’m not sure I like.” Steve takes another bite of ice cream and bows his head. “So what do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Hide.”

“In his pants?”

“Sam!”

“What?” Sam shrugs. “Look, just talk to the dude. Or, you know, seduce him. Or don’t do anything and be miserable.” He gives Steve a sharp look. “That last one is not actually an option.”

“What if I just pretend I didn’t realize? Just keep the status quo?”

“That’s the last one. And you’ll end up miserable. You deserve to be happy, Steve.” He swings his leg and nudges Steve in the shin. “There better still be ice cream left for me.”

“Ice cream and beer is disgusting.”

Sam gets up and heads to the kitchen. “If that’s a no, we’re gonna throw down. I’m here in your time of need.”

“You’re still laughing at me on the inside.”

“Well, yeah. But that’s pretty much always.”

**

“Stop laughing at me,” Bucky grumbles at Natasha. “I am a dangerous and lethal weapon. People don’t laugh at dangerous and lethal weapons.”

“One, I’m not people. And two, you are a giant ball of cotton candy wrapped up in leather and knives.”

“Which are dangerous and lethal weapons.” He isn’t pouting, no matter what the look Natasha is giving him implies.

“Cotton candy’s only dangerous if you’re diabetic.” She tilts her head, considering. “Steve’s not diabetic on top of everything else, is he?”

“No. And I meant the knives.”

“I imagine those are worthless too if he bats those big blue eyes at you.”

“You realize the last time I had an actual relationship was in 1945, right? And I’ve never actually been in a _relationship_ with a guy. Because that would have gotten me killed. So, you know, a little sympathy wouldn’t go amiss here.”

“You’re a dangerous and lethal weapon. You don’t need sympathy.” She leans back against the arm of the couch and puts her feet in his lap. “Have you considered telling him?”

“I can’t do that! Besides, I tried. I told him that Diana is seeing someone for real now. So I’m single.”

“You said it in those words?”

Bucky frowns. “Not exactly.”

Natasha takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “James.”

“I said that there was a guy.”

She leans in again and smacks the back of his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“What? What’d I do?”

“So, hey, Steve. I’ve got this great thing to tell you about! There’s this guy.” Her voice is mocking. “I can’t imagine why that wouldn’t go over just great.”

“I told him he was dating Diana!”

“Mm-hm.”

“I _did_ ”

“But you didn’t start with that, did you? I’m guessing from the fact that Rogers suddenly felt ill and left that you didn’t.” Covering her eyes with her hands, she mutters something too low for him to hear. “He thought you were telling him you had found someone you were interested in, you complete and utter idiot.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“So what do I do?”

“I don’t know that there’s anything you can do. You’ll have to wait until he comes back and go from there.” She wiggles her toes and he starts rubbing her feet. “You know he likes you, right?”

“Does he? I’m not so sure. Every time we get close he backs away.”

“You’re his boss.”

“Yeah, but I still want to be his boss. He’s good at what he does. But I also want to do other things with him. To him.”

“Please stop right there. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate a disaster blond, but I don’t ever need to think about you with one.”

“Liar. You’d totally enjoy it.”

She shrugs. “Maybe.” She shifts and levers herself to her feet, her heel digging into Bucky’s crotch. “Maybe not.”

“Well, I won’t enjoy it now. Or anything ever.”

“Maybe Steve’ll kiss it and make it better. You should ask him.”

**

Bucky is on his way out the door, coffee in hand and a doughnut in his mouth, when he runs into Steve. Literally. Steve’s arms pinwheel and he falls backwards, Bucky drops his coffee and reaches for him, and they both end up on the floor.

“Oof.” The air leaves Steve’s lungs in a rush and, with Bucky’s weight on him, he can’t seem to manage to catch his breath. His eyes widen as his chest fights to expand. Bucky shifts his weight onto his arms and raises himself up. He glances down at Steve and immediately sits back on his heels.

“Shit. Steve?”

Steve begins pawing at his jacket and pants, the high sound of him sucking in what he can through his restricted airways.

Bucky grabs both of Steve’s hands and holds them over Steve’s head, finding the hard bulge of Steve’s inhaler with the other. He puts it between Steve’s parted lips and depresses the button as Steve gasps for another breath. He hears the hiss of the aerosol and can feel the rigid tightness of Steve’s body start to dissipate.

Bucky releases Steve’s wrists and Steve immediately grabs the inhaler from him, giving himself another dose. Moving to the side, Bucky settles on the floor next to Steve. Steve sits up as well, far more slowly, and Bucky presses his hand to the small of Steve’s back to keep him upright.

“You okay?”

Steve nods and exhales shakily. “Thanks.”

“I’m sort of the cause, so I don’t think you need to thank me.”

“Panicked. For a minute I didn’t think I had my inhaler.”

“FRIDAY wouldn’t have let you die or anything.” He rubs Steve’s back, trailing over the knobs of his spine. “I mean, I wouldn’t have either.”

“Thanks.” His voice is raspy and weak, his quiet laugh rough. “Appreciate that.”

“You shouldn’t talk. Let’s get you up.” He gets to his feet and reaches down for Steve’s hand, helping to get him to his feet. Steve glances at the ground.

“You lost your doughnut.”

“I can get another doughnut. I can’t get another Steve Rogers.”

“I’m sure there’s another one out there somewhere.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I couldn’t get another you. You’re one of a kind. Thank God..”

Steve blinks up at him and Bucky swallows hard. He leans in slightly, jerking back when FRIDAY speaks. “Sergeant Barnes. Your ride to the charity auction luncheon is here.” Bucky starts to protest when FRIDAY continues. “Ms. Potts is waiting.”

“Right. I’m on my way.” He touches Steve’s cheek, fingers slipping down to his jaw. “You’re okay?”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He gestures toward the door. “I’m going to get to work.”

“I mean, you’re feeling better? Because you weren’t feeling well yesterday. But you’re better. Now.”

“Mrs. Potts, Sergeant.”

“Right. I have to go. You should stay. Here. For dinner.”

“I can’t. Sorry. I have plans.”

“Oh.” Bucky’s face falls. “Like… Date plans?”

“Maybe date plans.”

“Oh.” He’s about to say more when FRIDAY interrupts again.

“Miss Potts, Sergeant.” FRIDAY says it exactly how she says everything, but Bucky’s pretty sure that this time it’s a warning, and if he doesn’t get downstairs, Pepper’s going to show up and skin him alive. He may be the Winter Soldier, but _everyone_ is scared of Pepper Potts. 

“Right. Okay, well…” Bucky backs toward the elevator. “I’ll see you later. Today. After. Maybe. If you’re - “ He cuts off as the elevator doors shut. “I wasn’t finished.”

“Trust me, Sergeant. It was far better that you quit while you were marginally ahead.”

“You know, you don’t just have to be nice to Tony.”

“I’m sorry, Sergeant, at which point have I been nice to Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Bucky leans back against the elevator wall. “What charity is it today?”

“The Environmental Defense Fund. It’s part of your interest in curbing climate change that began with your National Geographic special.”

“Did I know I support them?”

“I believe Mr. Rogers did, at one point, tell you, yes.”

“Huh. Okay. That’s good. And Pepper’s going with me?”

“Apparently there will be some politicians there who may actually only give lip service to the EDF, and I believe Miss Potts might worry about your… reaction.”

“Do I know these politicians?”

“I believe Mr. Trump is likely to put in an appearance.”

“Ah. So. Are we sure we want me to go?”

“Miss Potts is actually invested in you meeting him. She did consider having you wear your tactical gear.”

“Have I told Miss Potts that I love her lately?”

“I believe so. In front of Mr. Stark, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Are you ever mistaken, FRIDAY?”

The elevator doors open into the garage. “No, sergeant. Not that I recall.”

**

“Mr. Rogers.”

“FRIDAY, I asked you to call me Steve.”

“I’ve been asked to tell you to turn on the television. This is something you need to see.”

Steve groans. “Oh, god. What did he do now?”

He turns on the TV and Bucky is standing there, handcuffs on his wrists. He’s obviously not particularly upset about being arrested, since he hasn’t broken out of them. He’s also grinning like a madman and Pepper is beside him, her eyes closed and very visibly taking deep breaths.

Just as he’s about to ask FRIDAY what happened again, the news report flashes back to the inside of a ballroom where Bucky is standing at a table talking to someone and then the metal of his hand flashes in the light, he lifts someone off the floor with it, and then very soundly punches the person in the face.

Steve buries his face in his hands. “Please tell me he didn’t just punch the President.”

“I find it interesting to note that none of the Secret Service stepped in.”

“That just encourages him. Oh, god. He only did it once, right?” FRIDAY doesn’t answer, so Steve turns and heads for the elevator. “Take me to the common floor, please, FRIDAY.”

The ride is swift and Steve spends the entire time with his face in his hands and shaking his head. When the door opens, he hears several of the Avengers cheering. He doesn’t have to look to know they have the punch on repeat. He goes straight to the bar and pours himself three fingers of something expensive, takes a sip, then swallows the rest down.

His chest and nose and throat and brain all burn, but he doesn’t care. He pours himself another glass and sips this time, refusing to look at the TV. He’s halfway through the drink when he feels someone come up to him. He turns and smiles ruefully at Natasha. “I don’t know what I’m drinking.”

She goes around the bar to the bottle and lifts it. “Mm. You have good taste.” She refills his glass and pours one for herself. “They won’t try to hold him.”

“He’s so proud of himself right now.”

“I’m sure Pepper’s putting him in his place.”

“They’re going to start talking about the Accords again. Trump’s going to make sure of that. I can practically hear the tweet now.”

“They have the video of Trump actually starting it. Barnes was actually minding his own business, until Trump started asking him if him being unfrozen was their proof of global warming, because everyone knew it was the Nazis that unfroze him. Then he called Barnes a traitor and a Nazi himself.”

“And then he punched him?”

“No. Then he told Trump, in no uncertain terms, what he thought of him. Which pretty much equated to fraud, embezzler, liar, hypocrite, idiot, abuser, sexual assaulter, and Nazi. Possibly pedophile.”

“Oh god.” Steve puts his head down on the bar. “And?”

“Trump said that the one good thing Hydra did was fry his brain and keep him in a cage, and it was a pity they hadn’t taught anyone else how to do it.” Steve looks up at her, horrified, and she shrugs. “ _Then_ he punched him.”

“Oh.”

“And he said, if anyone deserved to be tortured for their crimes, it was Trump. But he wouldn’t wish that on anyone – even him.”

“He said that?”

“Well, there were a lot more bleeped words. On the whole, I think just punching him once showed an admirable amount of restraint.”

“This is my favorite part!”

Steve turns around and looks at the TV. Bucky’s standing there, smiling widely, still handcuffed. He leans into the camera and the microphone as the Secret Service pulls him away. “Kids, listen to your moms, don’t do drugs, go to school, and punch the _bleep_ out of every Nazi you meet.”

Tony starts cackling, rewinds it, and plays it again. Steve looks at his glass and downs it. “Do I need to go to the police station? Or wherever they put people who punch the President?”

“Pepper’s taking care of it. And Trump doesn’t have the balls to try to send him to the Raft,” Natasha says. “Just relax. Tony’ll get bored with it soon, and we’re getting sushi delivered.”

“I think I’m going to go back to work.” Bucky’s last sentence repeats and Tony cackles again. Steve shakes his head. “In the quiet.”

“You sure?”

Steve grabs the bottle as Bucky’s sentence plays again and Tony and Clint both start laughing. “Very sure.”

Four hours later, Steve’s cancelled his plans – his definitely not a date, no matter what he told Bucky plans - and is sitting on the couch watching capybara videos on his laptop, when the door to the suite opens.

He looks up at Bucky, blinks, and says, very seriously, “Did you know that chinchillas like the cold, but you shouldn’t put them in the fridge?”

“I…” Bucky opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I did not.”

“It’s true.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever run into a chinchilla.”

“They have little slate… things. You put them in the fridge. Or the freezer, I suppose. But not the chinchillas.”

“Are you drunk, Steve?”

Steve squints at the bottle of booze. “How much is in the bottle?”

“About a quarter left.”

“Hm. Then yes.” He grins, his face scrunching up. “Probably very drunk.”

“I take it you saw what happened this afternoon?”

“You mean the part where you punched the President of the United States, called him all sorts of names, then encouraged children to beat up Nazis? That thing that happened? I did. I did indeed see that.”

“Is that why you’re drunk?”

Steve points in what he thinks is Bucky’s direction. “It may well be.”

“Maybe you should go sleep it off?”

“Capybaras are the largest rodent. And if you look them up, you get an episode of The Tick, and it’s amazing. I would like a capybara.”

“Do you put those in the fridge?”

“No!” He shakes his head. “I don't think you should put any animals in the freezer. You shouldn’t have been put in the freezer.” He blinks, and tears gather in his eyes. “I’m sorry Hydra put you in a freezer.”

“That was a long time ago. I’m better now.”

“I like you.”

“I like you too.” Bucky, from what Steve can see, looks something between worried and confused. “You can use the guest room.” He comes over and takes the laptop from Steve, closing it and setting it on the table. He’s about to take Steve’s hand and help him up when Steve wraps his arms around his neck instead. “Steve?”

“We should have sex.”

“I… What?”

“I bet we’d be really good at it.”

“I think you’re _very_ drunk.”

“It’ll be good. There’s all this sexual tennis.”

“Tension?”

“Is what I said. Sexual tennis.” Steve stands up, arms still wrapped around Bucky’s neck, so when he straightens, Bucky’s hands go under Steve’s thighs. Steve wraps his legs around him and presses close. “Sam says you want to.”

“Sam says wha-“

Steve kisses him. He cuts Bucky off, taking advantage of his parted lips to snake his tongue into his mouth. Bucky’s hands tighten then move up to Steve’s sides and pull him back. Steve frowns and tightens his legs even more. He leans in just enough to bite Bucky’s lower lip. Bucky makes a noise that goes straight to Steve’s cock, which is very much not cooperating, even with the encouragement.

“Steve.” Steve licks at Bucky’s lips and Bucky groans before pulling Steve off of him and dropping him back onto the couch. “No.”

“No?” He probably sounds as bewildered as he feels. “Why no? You don’t want me?”

“No! No. I very much want you. But you are very drunk, and I really, really don’t want you to regret this in the morning. So no.”

“No?”

“No.” He squats down so he can look Steve in the eye. “No for now.”

“I like boys who punch Nazis.” He sways forward and his head clonks against Bucky’s. “Wanna fuck you. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

“Fuck yes,” Bucky whispers. “You have no idea how much I want you in my bed. Inside me.”

“That’s nice.” Steve sways back and then forward, forehead hitting Bucky’s again. He starts giggling. “You punched the President.”

“Pretty sure you would have too.”

“Mm. I’da gone for the nuts.”

**

Steve falls asleep almost immediately after that and Bucky takes a deep breath. His heart’s beating a mile a minute and he’s pretty sure he’s harder than he’s been in his very long lifetime. He carries Steve into the guest bedroom, the one that’s actually Steve’s room in his head, and lays him down. Steve immediately starfishes out, and Bucky bites back a laugh as he covers him with a blanket.

He goes back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He texts Natasha with a 911 and she shows up about 20 minutes later. She’s wearing yoga pants, a stretched out t-shirt that he thinks might actually belong to Tony, and fuzzy slippers. She sits on the other end of the couch, bringing her feet up underneath her.

“What could possibly be an emergency on the day you punched the President in the face?”

“Steve kissed me.”

One of her eyebrows goes up. “And is there a reason I’m here and he’s not? Oh.” She nods at the bottle on the table. “I see he had a few more glasses.”

“He is very drunk and currently sleeping it off in the other room.”

“I bet he’s an adorable drunk.”

“He climbed me like a tree and told me he wanted to fuck me.”

“Aww. Cute.”

“And so… Cute?”

“He likes you.”

“He likes me drunk. I mean, drunk, he likes me. He likes me when he’s drunk.”

She rolls her eyes and lets her head fall back. “He likes you all the time, even when you’re being an asshole. Or dense. Like now. He probably was relaxed enough to tell you the truth. Or you punching Trump really did it for him. I’d say it’s even odds.”

“He said he likes me.”

“Are you guys going to hold hands and skip through the park? Lock pinkies while you share a shake at the malt shop?”

“He likes me. He wants me.” He ignores her. “I don’t know if I want that.”

“So you’re completely, head-over-heels in love with him is what you’re saying.”

“No!” He slumps. “Yes.”

“And if he’s not completely, head-over-heels in love with you, you don’t want something with him. Because you’ll get hurt.”

“Yes!”

“You’re never going to find out if you don’t try. And you’re over a hundred years old. Shouldn’t you have figured all of this out before now? Like, I don’t know, fifty years ago?”

“Fifty years ago I was still frozen and under Hydra control. Not a lot of room for romance there.” He straightens up and pulls his feet up onto the couch, holding his legs against his chest, chin on his knees. “There were girls before that, before and during the war. A guy or two on the docks and in the war. Never been in love.”

“And, just out of curiosity, why did you decide that coming to an ex-KGB spy and assassin for relationship advice was a good idea?”

“You and Clint seem to be doing okay.”

“That’s generally because Laura mediates and tells us not to be stupid.”

“How do you do this with two people? I can’t even figure it out with just one.”

“Trust me, Laura Barton will not let you screw it up. If you’re even thinking about not communicating clearly, she will kick your ass worse than any Avenger you ever met.”

“Even Hulk?”

“ _Any_ Avenger.”

“Wow. I think I’m kind of in love.”

“Sorry. She’s ours.” Natasha smiles and her foot comes out from underneath her and she nudges his ankle. “Let’s see. What would she say to you right now? I’ll now channel her for you.”

“Nat.”

“Ah yes. She would say you should get your head out of your ass, talk to the boy, tell him you want to live the rest of your life annoying him, and then, when he says yes, finally, you take him to bed.”

“What if he holds tonight against me?”

“Then your boy needs to learn some things about consent – both yours and his.” She moves fluidly to her knees and leans in and kisses his forehead. “Get some sleep, slugger.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. And never do it again.”

She leaves and Bucky slumps back, letting his legs slide out on the cushions in front of him. After a few minutes, he gets up and heads to the medical floor and grabs a bottle of aspirin. He takes it back to his suite and sets it, as well as a glass of water, on the table beside the bed. “Your head’s gonna hurt like hell in the morning,” He says aloud to the room. “And, to be honest, I’m probably going to laugh.”

**

Steve stumbles into the kitchen in the morning. His shirt’s twisted, his glasses are askew, his hair is sticking out in ten different directions, and he’s whimpering. He comes up to the counter and rests his head on it. Bucky reaches out, ruffles Steve’s hair, and then sets a plate down beside him. “Eat.”

“I want to die.”

“Eat first. Die later.”

“Die first. Eat later.” He groans softly. “Did you really punch Trump or was I dreaming? Or hallucinating?”

“Nope. Really punched him.”

“Bucky Barnes, you’re my heeeeeeeeeeero.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I have a feeling that’s a reference I’m not getting.”

“Once I die, we’ll plan for an after-life movie night.”

“You’re a funny guy. Eat.”

Steve climbs up on one of the stools, making annoyed and pained noises the entire time. Bucky suppresses a smile and pushes the plate in front of him. “Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs over-medium, bacon medium-crisp.”

Steve glares blearily at the plate. “Too much.”

“Eat.” Bucky puts the fork in Steve’s hand. “Don’t make me feed you.”

“Mean.” He stabs at his plate, ripping off a piece of pancake with his fork then shoving it in his mouth. He frowns for a minute then starts chewing before turning his attention to the plate and starts eating in earnest.

Bucky leans back on the counter and sips his coffee as he watches. “Other than the punching, do you remember anything about last night?”

Steve’s face has lines from his pillow, and his skin is obviously sleep-warm and pink, but something stronger and brighter paints his cheeks “Um. Drinking? A lot?”

“You definitely did that.”

“Did we… Um. Talk? About tennis? I woke up thinking about tennis.”

“Tennis was mentioned, yes.”

He sets his fork on his plate and puts his face in his hands. “Oh, god. What did I do? Did I challenge you to tennis? I can’t play tennis. If you hit something at me, the only thing I’m going to be hitting is the ground.”

“No.” Bucky curves his mouth up in a smile, but it’s pained. “You really don’t remember? Honestly?”

Steve bites his lower lip and looks at Bucky through his lashes. “I hit on you, didn’t I? Did I try and force myself on you? I am so sorry. God, I hope you told me off and, like, sprayed me down with a hose or something.”

“I’ve got too many horrifying memories of being sprayed down with a hose to ever do that, but I did put you to bed to sleep it off. Nothing happened. It was just a kiss.”

“I’m so sorry.” He buries his face in his hands. “You must hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Steve. It’s okay. It… It didn’t mean anything.”

Steve’s eyes snap up to Bucky’s and then, after a moment, something sad crosses over Steve’s face and he nods then drops his eyes. “Good. I mean, good. That you don’t hate me.”

“Well, I mean, you’re still you, so you’re annoying.” Steve laughs a little and Bucky reaches out and pushes against Steve’s lower lip, which had slid out into a pout. “And you asked me to get you a capybara.”

“Capybaras are the nicest creatures on Earth.”

“So you have nothing in common with them.”

“I hate you.”

Bucky taps him on the nose. “I know.” He turns away to pour himself more coffee, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “So, I’m guessing you want a bottle of that stuff for your birthday, huh?”

“I don’t know what I drank, but I never want it again. If it’s going to give me a hangover, then it’s not worth the money.” Steve comes over to Bucky and leans on the counter, pressing close, inhaling the smell of coffee. “Besides, you’re not getting me anything for my birthday. We decided.”

“No. We didn’t.”

“We did. You said, ‘what do you want for your birthday?’ and I said, ‘nothing’. See? Decided.” 

“I’m not going to give you nothing.”

“Exactly. By virtue of it being nothing, you can’t give it to me.” He goes back to eating his pancakes, humming when he takes another bite. 

Bucky watches him over the rim of his coffee mug. “I could get you a car.”

Steve’s eyes dart up to Bucky’s then down as he shakes his head. “What the hell would I do with a car? I live in _Brooklyn_. Not exactly a lot of room to park. And this is the only place I go to that isn’t within walking distance.”

“Why are you so difficult?”

“I’m not being difficult.” Steve stabs another bite of pancake and points it toward Bucky. “ _You_ are being stubborn and deliberately obtuse.”

Bucky leans in quickly and closes his mouth around Steve’s fork, stealing the pancake. Syrup drips down his chin and he sticks his tongue out to swipe at it. Steve’s eyes are locked on Bucky’s face, his tongue, but he manages to blink and look away. 

“Asshole.” Steve’s voice is deep, a low rumble that’s belied by his size.Without looking away, Bucky reaches out, rolls up Steve’s pancake and stuffs it in his mouth. Steve squawks and stabs Bucky with the fork, bending the tines as he hits metal.

Bucky’s cheeks are bulged out as he chews, and his lips feel sticky with syrup. Steve stares at him, mouth open. “Wha… You...I - “ Bucky grabs the last pancake on the plate , rolls it up and, just as Steve’s about to try another protest, shoves it in Steve’s mouth. Steve’s eyes widen and he digs his fork into his eggs and flings a handful at Bucky. Bucky manages to swallow, his mouth still partially full as he laughs, grabbing a handful of the eggs and throwing them at Steve. 

Steve grabs the bowl of fruit on the counter and starts pelting Bucky with grapes. Bucky catches one, shoves it in his mouth and brings his teeth down hard. The grape makes a satisfying crunch and Bucky smiles slowly. “It’s on, Rogers.”

Steve slides off the chair and backs up, holding the bowl in front of him like a shield. His other hand is holding an orange, his grip tight. “I am incapacitated. My reflexes are dulled by alcohol.”

“Shouldn’t have gotten drunk.” Bucky stalks around the counter, slow and deliberate.

“You shouldn’t have punched the President.”

“You really think that? Because I’m pretty sure you would have _beaten me_ to the punch.”

“That’s slander.” He keeps backing up. 

“Not if it’s true.” Bucy takes a step forward and watches Steve move back again. “And are you honestly telling me that, given the opportunity, you wouldn’t have punched him in his lying mouth?”

“Well, I…” Steve tosses the orange, but before he can move, Bucky moves under it, diving forward and toppling Steve over the arm of the couch. 

Buicky ends up on top of him, but he’s careful to brace himself, keep his weight balanced over Steve. “You would have punched him.”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

Bucky licks his lips, and Steve’s eyes drop down to watch. Steve’s glisten with syrup and Bucky swallows hard, ducking his head down and licking Steve’s lower lip. “Mm. Maple.”

Steve blinks wide blue eyes at him, and Bucky gives up pretending. He lowers himself slightly and presses his mouth against Steve’s, a sweet, sticky kiss. Steve makes a low noise and his lips open. Bucky groans and kisses him again, jerking and smacking his forehead against Steve’s as the Avengers alarm sounds. 

“Jesus fucking Christ in the garden on a fucking pogo stick down behind the fucking fence.” Bucky levers himself up and starts for the door. He turns as he gets there, pointing at Steve. “Don’t go away. Please.”

Steve nods, looking dazed. “Okay.”

The alarm screams again and Bucky groans. “I have to go.”

**

Steve sits there and blinks at the door long after Bucky is gone. He keeps licking his lips, but the taste of syrup and Bucky are both long gone. He finally shakes himself out of his stupor. “FRIDAY?:”

“Yes, Mr. Rogers?”

“What are they looking at?”

“There appears to be a series of portals opening over different parts of the world. I believe Agent Hill is calling in all reinforcements, mutants, enhanced humans, and mechanically assisted alike.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Nothing, Mr. Rogers. Not even something Sergeant Barnes would disapprove of.”

“So I just wait?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I hate waiting. I’m incredibly bad at it.”

“Might I suggest eating some breakfast? Ms. Potts is in the main lounge.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I think I’m going to shower first. Will you… Can you keep me updated?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” 

Steve goes into the bathroom before realizing he doesn’t have anything to wear. Sighing, he heads toward Bucky’s room and digs out a t-shirt and pair of sweats. They’re both going to be far too big on him, but his current clothes smell like liquor and syrup, and if he has to smell it much longer, he’s going to be sick. He showers and dresses, rolling down the waistband and rolling up the legs. 

FRIDAY takes him down to the main room, where Pepper is sitting. He settles in a chair nearby, pulling his feet up under him. He turns his attention to the television, watching as a portal tears open the sky and a bunch of things fall out. It’s not unlike the battle of New York, but instead of being centralized, it’s everywhere. There are shots from multiple states as well as other countries. 

“How are they going to handle all of that?”

“I don’t know. There aren’t enough of them.” She shakes her head, not looking away from the screen. “I can’t watch this. I can’t. I’ll go crazy. I have a major project I’m working on. How do you feel about helping?”

Steve watches as the sky lights up, behind him through the windows and on the screen. Thor must be in New York. “I feel really good about it. Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter. It failed its one job.


End file.
